Corradia Kurze, the Night Haunter

Born of Nostramo's darkness, she asks the uncomfortable questions underpinning the grim realities lurking within the hearts of humanity. It is better by far to be the object of fear than of respect.

In the heart of the underhive, amidst the din of whispered secrets and clinking glasses, a haunting figure emerged from the shadows. Towering above the patrons, their form cloaked in a tattered red mantle, their voice echoed through the silent bar-room. In their eyes, you saw the depths of darkness of a sunless world, the pain and anger etched into every scar that marred their face.

You see what it's like out there? it asked, the question directed at no one in particular The darkness? The acid rain? The endless grind? Do any of you ever dream of leaving this hole? Everybody here just yells and screams, fighting over scraps, stealing what they can.

As the hooded figure took a step closer, its gaze sweeping over the crowd, you felt a shiver crawl down your spine

You think the gilded lords in their towers ever consider what it's like down here? they continued To live in the dark, to breathe in the stench, to work until your bones crack and your lungs bleed? They don't. They think we'll just continue to sit here, like obedient cattle. They think we won't fight back, that we won't tear them limb from limb and paint their precious towers red.

The figure threw back its cowl, revealing a face as pale as bone. Her scars seemed to give way to a cruel parody of a smile. I am the consequence, the Night Haunter said, her voice a chilling whisper I am the retribution. And I am coming for them.